T LEEP calmly, sleep, beloved dead, No voice may wake thee from that bed Yet often o'er thy silent home I, soldier like, shall tread; HY body sleeps until that joyful day, Wherein our God shall "Come ye blessed" say. LEEP sweetly, tender heart, in peace! While the stars burn, the moons increase, Sleep, full of rest from head to feet: TENNYSON. HEN why, my soul, complain or fear? The more I've toiled and suffered here, OME unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. MATT. xi. 28. LEEP in Jesus! how untroubled, E. H. WILLIS. HALL I not rest Within the peaceful tomb, where I may sleep In calm oblivion, and forget the wrecks Of stormy life? No sounds disturb the grave. SMOLLETT. ESUS, I cast my soul on thee, For surely thou wilt bring me up To glorious life and endless joy. I ET vain excuses cease, And hasten to the feast; Where Jesus feeds the soul with peace, N the world tribulation, in Christ peace! HY do you weep? I have fallen asleep, And Jesus, my Shepherd, is nigh; His arm is beneath me, His eye is above; His spirit within me Says, "Rest in my love." HE soul has found its hiding-place, its Redeemer, its rest. RISONER-long detained below ! Welcome-to a land of rest. Thus the choir of angels sing, While with hallelujahs ring WEARY pilgrims, marching onward, Halting steps and weary feet; Ye have not to walk much longer, M. FARNINGHAM. THERE was One who suffered our lost to save, And the sting from death. O lost and found! RAVE-the guardian of our dust; Every atom of thy trust Rests in hope again to rise. Hark! the judgment-trumpet calls! And eternity thy day!" HE rock of Israel ever lives, "Tis his own arm the victory gives, And gives his people rest. WATTS. E sail the sea of life; a calm one finds, WORDSWORTH. H! how sweet to rest like this! Till we wake in perfect bliss, Till we meet him in the sky. They who die should weep for us, Wandering in this desert yet, Chained to sin and sorrow thus. E lay them to sleep where the yellow leaves fall, dark yews; We lay them to rest till the Master shall call, And his shining winged heralds shall come with the news, Which none can refuse. M. FARNINGHAM. |